Chapter 23

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Yaay! An update! Those things are so few nowadays huh?

This one’s for my dear friend Ritzy, and all of you who left those lovely comments on the last chapter! :D

Gah! Im soo lucky to have such patient readers! Thanks guys!:)

TPL chapter 23!

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Conrad stretched lazily,getting out of the bed in the guest room at Bentham and walking to the window. What greeted him was a view of an elegant black steed thundering into the adjoining forest, with who he assumed was James on his back.

If he was a normal newly wed man, he wouldn’t be awake so early in the morning, let alone be riding away from his wife as if the hounds of hell were after him. Sighing, he turned away from the window, ringing for hot water for a bath.

Yesterday’s lunch had been a raucous affair, him automatically switching on his charm to make the countess, or rather Olivia, as she had insisted he call her, feel at ease. It had worked upto an extent with her responding to his tales of James as a child with an enthusiasm he had not expected her to show this early in the marriage.

Since then, he had spent his time observing the couple and he had, in the course of his astute observations, recognized a certain tension, and at the same time a great deal of light heartedness in their interactions. There were a few tense moments, as when he had asked how they had come to be wed, at which there had been a pointed silence that descended on the room.

He had been thinking of the documents that she apparently had, and wondered what documents could a woman possibly possess of relevance to the identification of a traitor.

As the maids brought buckets of water to fill the tub placed in the adjoining suite, he paced the room, eager to get his friend rid of all the problems that had descended on his already complicated life. But what could he do?

A ride after his bath sounded like just the thing to clear his mind. Maybe then he’d be able to think of something.

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Just a few doors down from Connie, Olivia sat at her escritoire, rereading the letter she had written to her parents. Did she sound too happy? Or too sad? Should she tell them about Conrad?

Dear God, now she was obsessing over a letter to her parents! What was wrong with her?

Folding the letter, she put in in an envelope, and sealed it, placing it to the side, mentally making a note to give it to the butler later.

She had heard James leave his suite about half an hour ago. He had been disturbed since the arrival of his friend, and she had seen them converse in low tones throughout the day when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.

To add to the turbulence of her thoughts, last night she had dreamt of the papers on Lord Radnor that Willie had given her to peruse. In the dream, she had opened up the papers, and had found them stained red. The room where she was, was dark and a storm raged outside, the windows rattling ominously.

Normally she would have never believed in such a dream, but in light of recent events, her mind would not let go of it.

Getting up, she walked to the chest placed at the foot of her bed, and rummaging in it, took out the brown paper parcel. Briefly she contemplated throwing it in the fire, but realized her foolishness almost instantly. Opening the wrap, she quickly scanned through the papers once more, even though any salient points that she thought could be useful had been noted down by her.

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